Ouija
by La Lune
Summary: Serena Sexton is a psychic and despite her better judgement agrees to perform a session with an Ouija board for the bane of her existence, Darien Crowley. Shortly afterward she starts to see something in her house and has the most uncanny feeling that sh
1. The Unwise Decision

Title: Ouija  
Author: La Lune  
E-mail: la_lune86@hotmail.com  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Alternate Reality, plus a bit of Horror   
  
::Standard Disclaimers Apply::  
  
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'The basis of optimism is sheer terror.'  
-Oscar Wilde  
  
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Chapter One: The Unwise Decision  
  
  
"HELL NO." Serena Sexton glared at her future business   
partner with great annoyance. Apparently after almost thirty-two years   
of getting everything he ever wanted, he decided to present a seemingly   
harmless request to her, but if that wasn't enough, he expected her to   
comply.  
  
"Oh come on Serena, it's a harmless game! It's recommended   
for children eight years of age and older, and last time I checked you   
have been eight years or older for nineteen years now. Come on do this   
for me, it will be fun, and if nothing happens I promise I'll never bug   
you again." Darien Crowley was getting rather agitated. They had been   
semi-arguing for almost an hour now and it had become monotonous   
after about the first ten minutes.  
  
"Funny, that's exactly what you said when you asked me to do   
a reading on you. You remember that don't you? I told you the exact   
date of you divorce from Melanie and the grounds it was built upon.   
Do you remember Darien, everything I said was true. And after all that   
did you believe me? No. And you never will because that's the way   
you are, the way you always will be. You don't believe in what you   
can't or don't see, and you will never see what I do because it goes   
against every law of reason you know." Serena glared up at Darien,   
silently cursing the fact of how intimidating he could be because of his   
height advantage. She missed her middle school years when every boy   
was at least two feet shorter than her, now she had to nearly brake her   
neck just to look at half the men she knew. Damn puberty. Now   
despite her average height and high-heeled shoes Serena wanted to do   
nothing more than stand on a chair.   
  
"You're right Serena...but still, it's a harmless game, how bad   
could it be?"  
  
"How bad could it be!?" She turned to a stack of books that   
laid upon a nearby chair. After rummaging through them for a minute   
she picked up a paperback and thrust it into Darien's face. "Have you   
ever heard of demonic possession!?"  
  
Darien glanced down at the book that he now held in his   
hands, 'Ouija: The Most Dangerous Game' by Stoker Hunt and tried not   
to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. "Serena don't you think   
you're taking this a little too seriously? It's just a harmless game."  
  
"Harmless! That game is no more harmless than me with any   
form of a sharp object. If you want to play with an 'Ouija' board so   
badly why don't you go get one of your little friends to participate with   
you, I mean my presence isn't exactly mandatory for this type of thing."  
  
"Oh come on Serena, sure I could get someone else, but you're   
a psychic! If I use the board with someone else there's probably a slight   
chance of something happening, but most likely not. With you though   
it's a whole new story, I'm sure if you do this very simple, unpretentious   
favor for me, something will most definitely happen."  
  
"Oh for Christ's sake Darien, you don't even believe in   
psychics! And if you want the assistance of one so badly may I suggest   
some of the lovely ones that advertise their services on the television.   
Some are only 99 cents a minute so hey, just think of it as a long   
distance phone call. By the way, don't you have a company to run?"  
  
"It's not my company to run at the moment Serena, your father   
is trying to get as much done as he can before he lets you take over for   
him. So at the moment my presence is about as necessary as yours,   
which isn't exceedingly necessary." She glared at him once more from   
his reference to the fact that in order for her to become 'familiar' with   
the position she would filling in the somewhat near future her father had   
decided to start her off as Darien's secretary of sorts. And if the terrible   
fact of being the secretary of probably one of the biggest jerks she had   
ever known wasn't enough, the fact that she had never in her life had   
any type of secretarial training and the concept of shorthand made about   
as much sense to her as any language other than English, which much to   
her father's chagrin, she couldn't grasp for the life of her.  
  
"If you're trying to get on my good side by sweet-talking me   
let me give you a little hint, it isn't working."  
  
"I don't think my calling your presence on the payroll   
unnecessary would be considered 'sweet-talking', but then again that's   
just me..."  
  
"Oh shut-up, I never said I WANTED to take my father's   
place, I'm just the only one left."  
  
"Yes, well back to the question at hand, will you do it?"  
  
"Even though it is completely out of character for me to be   
kind to others, let alone you, if it'll shut you the hell up and get you out   
of my hair then fine, I'll 'mystify' you with my psychic abilities."  
  
"I don't care about your 'psychic abilities', I just want to see if   
this 'Ouija board' thing really works."  
  
"Well when do you want to come over to my house?"  
  
"Why can't you come over to MY house."  
  
"Because frankly the thought of going to your house doesn't   
really appeal to me."  
  
"Fine, then lets go."  
  
"But I still have a couple hours left here until I'm off."  
  
"Serena, first of all you are currently my secretary, and I can   
tell you when to work and when not to, and second of all you are the   
daughter of the co-owner not to mention co-president of this company.   
Now let's go."  
  
-------------------------  
  
Serena yawned exasperatedly as her newly acquired platinum   
2001 Vanden Plas SC Jaguar pulled to a stop at a red light. Her parents   
had insisted upon her getting a new car, they claimed her '91 Mercury   
Grand Marquis was 'atrocious'. She had purchased it at a used car   
dealership on sale for only $2,500, and even though it was a piece of   
crap she had fallen in love with it. It's age and black exterior had given   
it a lovely 'mobsteresque' quality which she adored. God she had loved   
that car. Her Jag on the other hand had been no bargain with it's almost   
$90,000 price tag, she had to admit though, she looked damn good in it.  
  
The light was still red, and that meant as long as it was still red   
she would have to spend even more time in a confined space with   
Darien Crowley. Yuck, just the thought of it made her skin crawl, in a   
bad way. She glanced back up at the light and confirmed once more   
that it was indeed still red.  
  
"You know what Darien," Serena glanced over at Darien to   
make sure he didn't miss her revelation, "I hate you."   
  
"Wow Serena big surprise." Darien's voice dripped with   
sarcasm, which irked her even more considering she was probably the   
most sarcastic person known to man kind. "And how may I ask did you   
come to this conclusion?"  
  
Finally. The light changed to green. Serena waited until they   
were cruising once more down the rode at a comfortable speed before   
answering. "Simple." She glanced briefly over at Darien once more   
before returning her gaze back to the rode. "You're a jackass."  
  
Darien promptly burst out laughing. Serena cocked a brow as   
she parked her car by the curb which just so happened to be   
conveniently located in front of her house on Commonwealth Avenue.   
She turned to Darien once more, who much to her annoyance was still   
laughing. "Okay, we're here. Now get the hell out of my car."   
  
To be continued...  
  
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Author's Notes: Thanks for reading!! Reviews are super, not to mention   
e-mails!  
  
Until next time...  
-La Lune   
  
Note: The book 'Ouija: The Most Dangerous Game' by Stoker Hunt I   
mentioned in this chapter is actually a real book, and supplied me   
somewhat with the idea for this story. If you're into this 'Ouija board'   
thing I highly recommend it!  
  



	2. A Glimpse

Title: Ouija  
Author: La Lune  
E-mail: la_lune86@hotmail.com  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Alternate Reality, and a little on the creepy side   
  
::Standard Disclaimers Apply::  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
'The basis of optimism is sheer terror.'  
-Oscar Wilde  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
Chapter 2: A Glimpse   
  
  
Serena was surprised when she noticed Darien had kept his at   
times overly large mouth in check upon entering her home, which was   
in her opinion perfect in every way shape or form, but knowing Darien   
he would find something. The blissful silence lasted for a good minute   
or two, that is until she entered her 'study' and he saw her dog lounging   
on an ivory chaise by the stained glass window facing the plush green   
lawn and rose garden that were situated behind the large town home.   
The heavy chocolate colored drapes were open letting the light stream   
in leaving colored patterns on its back. She narrowed her eyes angrily   
when she heard his laughter erupt once more.  
  
"What may I ask is that 'thing'!?" He pointed towards the lump   
of black fur that was, or more correctly had been sleeping.  
  
"It's a dog." She answered dumbly, attempting to make him   
feel like the utter disgrace of molecules and waste of perfectly good   
oxygen he was. Even though she had to admit it sounded pretty pitiful,   
she had found it quite satisfying every time she was able to make   
Darien feel like a moron. She wondered briefly if she had some   
inferiority complex, probably something she developed from her   
childhood, she'd look into it later.  
  
"Yeah I noticed that, I was just surprised that you have a dog,   
not to mention such a...furry one."  
  
"It's an afghan hound Darien, all afghan's are 'furry'."  
  
"What's its name? Please don't say something girly like   
Precious or Duchess."  
  
"No, actually his name is Oedipus, I call him Eddie for short   
though. My mom wanted to name him Princess though, I believe. She   
was literally on the brink of tears when I told her her 'Princess' was   
actually a 'Prince'." Serena laughed lightly, she could still see the   
dejected look on her mother's face at the news.  
  
"Knowing your mother, I wouldn't doubt that." Darien himself   
chuckled, oh yeah, that sounded like Serena's mother all right. "I   
haven't seen her in a while, is she all right? Is she sick?"  
  
"Oh no of course not. She got a face lift a few weeks ago, and   
then one of those laser peel things. Believe me for a while there, it   
wasn't a pretty sight. She's been in 'hibernation', if you will, she always   
stays out of public view for a time while her face heals and the swelling   
goes down after one of her cosmetic surgeries. She'll make her 'grand   
reentry' soon though, don't worry." She explained sarcastically, it was   
really the only way she could bear talking of her mother.   
  
Serena found the most appropriate term for her mother was   
'blissfully ignorant', for as far as she knew, her mother never fully   
mastered the art of thinking. Claire Sexton, despite her lack of brain   
power had, thanks to her husband's extensive bank account, discovered   
the fountain of youth - facial surgery. And boy did she enjoy it, minus   
the pain and swelling. Sure, maybe a nip there and a tuck here didn't   
hurt, but with her mother it became fanatical. Serena was surprised that   
her skin of her face hadn't ripped in two from all tugging it had gone   
through. But then again, that was her mother, the connoisseur of style.  
  
Serena preferred to wear earth tones, even though her mother   
had told her bright colors were currently 'in'. Despite Serena's effort to   
go against her mother's tastes she had noticed blouses appearing in her   
closet with the tags describing the colors like 'magenta' and 'aqua', via   
none other than her air-headed mother. At least her mother   
acknowledged her existence, unlike her father.  
  
"So how's your dad excepting his retirement?"  
  
"He doesn't really like to talk to me, unless you count when he   
yells, but he's more than likely taking it like an ass."  
  
"I thought I was the ass." Darien slowly began to grin, she was   
right, he couldn't think of one time when he saw them talking together   
that her father hadn't started ripping into her.  
  
"No, you're the jackass, my dad's just a plain ass." Serena   
grinned as well, impressed with Darien's astuteness.   
  
"If he doesn't want you to take his place, why doesn't he let   
one of your brothers instead?"  
  
"Aaron started his own company online, and it's doing quite   
well, he doesn't have time for dad's job as well." Serena's eldest brother   
Aaron was probably her favorite member of the family, he was six years   
older than her, and probably the most sane member of her family. She   
purposely forgot to mention her other older brother Nicholas, he was   
the middle child and Serena was quite sure that he had inherited her   
mother's mentality, that wasn't a compliment.  
  
"What about Nick? Surely he didn't start his own business as   
well, he never seemed like the type to me."  
  
"Actually...no...," Serena had no idea where to begin with   
Nick, it was classically bizarre. "He's currently in Tibet cleansing his   
soul in order to become a monk."  
  
"You're kidding." Darien's mouth was slightly ajar, and his   
eyes slightly wider than normal, Serena wished she had a camera. The   
picture would have been perfect for blackmail.  
  
"Nope, it's true. Dad looked like he was going to cry when   
Nick broke the news and left, after that he was going to give the rest of   
the company to you until my mom reminded him that the weird girl that   
'talked' to dead people was his daughter. Now this little trip down   
short-term memory lane is fun and all but I must exhort, lets get this   
show on the road."  
  
Serena walked by Darien and up to her desk, briefly pausing   
on her way to pat Eddie's black head. She pulled out a drawer and   
momentarily shuffled through a few things before she came across a   
piece of blank paper that was big enough to use, she placed it on top of   
the desk and picked up a black Sharpie. Quickly, she began to scribble   
down the words 'Good Bye' and the alphabet along with the numbers   
zero through nine in the general location they would be on the Parker   
Brothers version of the game. Once finished she held it up for Darien   
to see, "There you go, have fun."  
  
"Don't you have the 'real' game, or at least something...old?"  
  
Serena arched a brow amusedly, "What do you want me to do,   
dye it with tea, and burn some holes in it? Will that make this more   
'convincing' for you?"  
  
When she received no answer, except for a glare from Darien   
she continued with the task at hand, she needed a pointer. She was   
quite pleased with herself when she found a small teacup that would   
work quite efficiently, she was not pleased however, when she noticed   
Darien's look of distaste. "Is there a problem?"  
  
"Yes as a matter of fact there is. I would have expected this   
experience to be a little more 'authentic' then you're making it out to   
be."  
  
"Authentic? All right then Darien, would you consider using a   
mass-produced game board made by the same people who make Life,   
Sorry, and Monopoly authentic? You have the guidance of a real-life   
psychic at your disposal and you want this to be more authentic?" She   
motioned towards her gathered materials exasperatedly, "I don't think   
you can get much more authentic than a home-made Ouija board!"  
  
"Okay then, don't pop a capillary!" Darien made a face, one in   
which Serena was unsure of what she was supposed to think of it. "Are   
you done yet?"   
  
"Almost." Serena placed her materials on the plush oriental   
rug that covered part of the hard wood floor and then suddenly left the   
room. When she returned moments later carrying a few candles,   
matches, and lugging a contraption of some sort, which Darien   
recognized as a laminator - the one that had been missing from the   
office.  
  
He watched as she put the contents of her arms on the floor   
with the rest of her things and cautiously sat down in front of the   
accumulation. He looked down at her as she wordlessly placed the   
candles to one side of the 'board', or as Darien saw it, the piece of paper   
with the alphabet on it. Suddenly he found his intent gaze being   
returned by Serena's piercing aqua eyes. She sighed in pure agitation,   
"Are you waiting for an invitation?" she swept a hand out motioning to   
the space across from her on the other side of the board. Darien hastily   
complied and sat down where indicated.  
  
"Here," Serena quickly thrust a pack of matches at Darien who   
startled, stared at them dumbly for a moment before taking them from   
her. "Light the candles."  
  
"I don't want to seem difficult, even though I most likely   
already have, but...why can't you light them yourself?" Darien was able   
to detect a slight hesitation from Serena before she decided to speak, for   
her it was probably a first.  
  
"I just don't want to get burned," She planned on leaving it at   
that until she was met with an upraised brow from Darien, "Fine!," she   
exclaimed exasperatedly, "If you must know, when I was in sixth grade   
science class we were performing an 'experiment'. I struck a match to   
light the Bunsun burner and burned myself, it wouldn't have been a big   
deal except that that was the first match I had ever lit in my life, and   
since then I've made sure it was the only one." Serena's voice sounded   
defeated in a way, Darien knew one of her weaknesses, she found   
herself unable to look him in the eye.  
  
"You're afraid to light a match!?" Darien had to admit he was   
surprised, a match was a match, nothing he considered to be a big deal.   
But then again, here he was sitting on the floor with a 'psychic' who was   
afraid to light a match about to do something teenage girls did at   
slumber parties.  
  
"Look buddy, if you want your definition of authenticity, than   
this is it. I'm not about to subject myself to unnecessary trauma over   
some candles. If you want them, light them yourself." Serena watched   
wearily as Darien, who still found Serena's fear of matches quite funny,   
lit the three unscented white candles she had brought in with her.  
  
Serena had run a plain sheet of paper through the laminator   
and placed it under the lit candles, in order to catch the melted wax.   
Darien knew if any harm were to come to her nice hardwood floor   
heads would roll, or more accurately his head would roll.  
  
"Did you steal that from the office? Molly's been looking for   
that thing for ages." Molly had been a friend of Serena's back in junior   
high and now apparently she usually worked as Darien's secretary, but   
as of lately mostly worked for Serena's father.   
  
It was funny though, Serena remembered being a bridesmaid at   
her wedding, right after they finished high school. The dress she had   
been forced to wear was mint green, and was probably the ugliest thing   
she had ever seen, fashion wise at least. After the wedding Serena had   
proceeded with her own dress-burning ceremony, her brother Aaron had   
been present and still would send a bouquet every year that day in   
honor of the now dearly departed dress.  
  
After the wedding though they grew rather apart, Molly   
matured and grew up, and Serena...well Serena stayed pretty much the   
same. Serena saw Molly every once in a while, she had to admit she   
hadn't recognized her at first, she had gained some weight and pretty   
much looked tired and slightly haggard, she looked older than Serena   
despite the fact they were born only a few months apart. She assumed   
that's what happens when you have five kids, a husband, and worked for   
Darien. Serena figured by the time she got her father's spot and didn't   
have to be Darien's 'secretary' she would look like she was forty.  
  
"No actually I didn't," Serena didn't really know why she   
would want to steal the laminator... what would she do with it, make   
place mats? "My father has dubbed me his unofficial laminator, I find   
it easier to do here, I didn't know there was such a demand to laminate   
stuff."   
  
Darien watched as Serena then laminated the Ouija board   
itself, "And you're doing that because...?"  
  
"Because this way there won't be any or not as much friction   
when the 'pointer' - in this instance a teacup moves across the surface, if   
it moves at all. Just so you know, I make no promises." She then held   
up the newly covered piece of paper, "Is it to your liking?"  
  
Darien noticed that along with the complete alphabet and the   
numbers zero through nine she had also somewhere along the line   
added the words 'Yes', 'No', 'Maybe', an ampersand, and a few   
punctuation marks. She had been quite thorough. He nodded his   
approval.  
  
"Okey dokey, lets get down to buisness," She stood up   
abruptly and walked towards the door and shut it, and then drew the   
curtains together in order to make the room as dark as she was able to.   
Before Darien was able to say anything she held up a hand for silence   
and said simply, "You said you wanted this to be 'authentic'." She   
walked back and once more carefully sat down across from Darien, "All   
right Mr. Authenticity, lets get this show on the road. Any questions?"  
  
"Yeah, is there a 'right' way to do all this? You seem to be   
making it up as you go along." Darien had a feeling Serena didn't know   
a thing about what she was doing, of course neither did Darien.  
  
"Not necessarily, a key phrase associated with the Ouija board   
is 'trial and error'. They suggest that the participants sit in two chairs   
facing each other with their knees touching and with the board resting   
on their knees. I don't exactly know who 'they' are so who cares what   
they say." Serena had a feeling 'they' didn't really know what they were   
talking about, and if 'they' did Serena hoped her way would dissuade   
any 'connections' from taking place. Both participants gently touched   
the teacup with a few fingers, Serena closed her eyes momentarily and   
drew in a deep breath, when she opened them once more the room felt   
darker than it had previously, when she spoke her voice sounded small   
and foreign. "Is there anyone there?"  
  
Darien watched in amazement as the teacup moved over the   
word 'Yes'. It actually moved! Serena watched as well, she was sure it   
was not from any unconscious movements from her or Darien, she felt   
something, but she had the uncanny feeling that that something was not   
good.  
  
Serena paused briefly and stared at the cup thoughtfully before   
asking another question, "What's your name?" Serena's eyes slowly   
trailed behind the cup as it moved across the letters, pausing briefly   
here and there, eventually it spelled the name 'Elise Crowley'. That was   
Darien's mother's name. She saw the look on Darien's face and thought   
it best to keep him quiet while she confirmed her suspicions.   
  
She continued to slowly and thoughtfully ask the 'contact'   
questions, all about Darien of course. Unsurprisingly the contact didn't   
miss a beat and answered correctly time and time again. Serena in the   
meantime remained unimpressed, unlike Darien, who appeared   
completely enthralled with every movement the teacup made across the   
board. Something was not right, she knew it. Her uneasiness increased   
until a feeling of nausea overtook her violently, she found herself   
desperately attempting not to retch. The only thing she could do was   
swiftly, and almost violently pull her hands away from the teacup. She   
hastily stood up and placed it on top of some papers littering the top of   
her desk.   
  
"Serena what the hell are you doing? That was my mother!"   
Darien stood up as well and followed Serena to were she stood by the   
chaise stroking her dog's head.  
  
"No it wasn't. That wasn't your mother Darien." Serena met   
Darien's gaze and firmly stood her ground, he might not have been able   
to feel what she could, but that didn't mean she could ignore it.  
  
"What do you mean it wasn't my mother, it knew her name and   
everything else you asked her for, I think that's evidence enough."   
Darien couldn't believe Serena would act so brashly, she seemed almost   
angry at the 'spirit' that had contacted them.  
  
"Spirits can lie too Darien. Just because they know things   
about you doesn't mean they are who they say they are. Just because   
they're dead doesn't mean they can't lie, believe me they do." Serena in   
fact was very angry with the spirit, or entity, she wasn't sure which it   
was, and frankly didn't care. She was worried about what it's motives   
were for contacting them, very worried.  
  
"Serena what are you talking about it knew - !"   
  
"Darien, I don't care if it knows your shoe size...Look, if the   
spirit of a dead family member or friend were to come through they   
would reach on a level easiest for them, the dream level. Or they would   
come through as a visitation apparition, or as a crisis apparition.   
Basically they show up once or twice and never ever again. With Ouija   
you're conjuring spirits, and non-human spirits with a malicious nature   
tend to respond, not human spirits. Human spirits have no need to wait   
around for an opportunity to come through on an Ouija board even   
though you are trying to connect with them, so they don't. That wasn't   
your mother..." Serena felt stupidly like a textbook, or even worse - an   
overly religious priest preaching about how everyone had a one way   
ticket straight to hell.  
  
"Serena do you have any idea how trivial that dribble you just   
recited is to me?" Serena suddenly noticed that he was slowly backing   
her into a corner where two bookshelves met, the numerous volumes   
beginning to poke her in the back. "You have no idea whatsoever what   
it is like to lose not only one, but both of your parents. Not only are   
your mother and father still here and supporting you you have big   
brother Aaron to help pay the bills as well!" Darien's voice had a   
murderous edge to it, in all the time Serena had known him she had   
never seen him so angry. But still Serena found herself infuriated as   
well at his heartless accusations.  
  
"How dare you!" She pointed a finely manicured nail in   
between his eyes for emphasis, "Do you have ANY idea what it's like to   
know that your father HATES you and that your mother is too dumb to   
care! I should have 'MISTAKE' tattooed on my forehead! Aaron is the   
only person in my family that acknowledges my existence and isn't   
bothered by it. Nick is too caught up with 'purifying' his goddamned   
soul, and most likely wants to stay as far away as possible from us.   
You are the lucky one Darien, your parents loved you and still do, mine   
never have and never will." Serena voiced the painful truth carefully,   
she could feel herself beginning to lose control on the tears that   
threatened to spill from her eyes. Never in all her life had she spoken   
the sad truth she had none for so long, not even to herself.   
  
"Don't try to pretend you know what my parents were like, you   
have no idea..." Darien's voice had become low and threatening, Serena   
wouldn't have been surprised if he cause her some sort of bodily harm   
before he left and involuntarily flinched at the thought  
  
"You seem to forget Darien, I know exactly what your parents   
were like, and if I must, I'll tell you. Don't worry I won't leave anything   
out," Serena could feel the books to her back once more and tried to   
move away, it didn't work. She continued in a quiet voice, overlaying a   
steely mocking tone, "Your father was the strong silent type, he kept his   
emotions to himself, didn't he Darien?" Serena didn't wait for an   
answer, "You were convinced he didn't like you and went to your   
mother with all of your emotional needs, there was only one problem   
though, she was sick...very, very sick. The only way you could see her   
was before you went to bed, you would sneak into her room,   
unbeknownst to your father of course. You would tell her about your   
day and she would listen, you loved to listen to her talk though, the   
sound of her voice. It was always so warm and caring, no matter how   
ill she felt. That's what you miss the most, isn't it? The sound of her   
voice, and the way she would say she loved you. Well anyway, one   
night your father found out about your nightly visits to your mother and   
forbade you to go in one night, she was too sick. It turned out she died   
that night, you never got to see her that one last time because of your   
father and never forgave him for it.   
  
"You probably don't care but did you know the dying wait   
until they're alone until they leave? Dying is a very private ordeal, one   
which should be experienced alone. Think of it this way, she was   
waiting for the day when you didn't visit to leave, it would have   
happened sooner or later. It was her time.   
  
"Now back to your father, you hated him. About five months   
after your mother's death your father suddenly had a heart attack on the   
way home from work and was in a terrible car accident. You went to   
the hospital with your grandfather, and although he was barely clinging   
to life - you still hated him. He asked to see you so you went in his   
room, and were amazed. There he was, your tyrant of a father lying on   
a bed connected to all kinds of machines, looking as frail and small as   
your mother had...right before she died. As you approached you saw   
the unnatural pallor to his skin and the dark circles under his eyes, but   
you didn't care - you hated him. And for one minute as you stared   
down at his corpse-like form oblivious to your presence you didn't care,   
you honestly didn't care if he lived or died, in fact you would have   
preferred if he had. You touched his hand lightly, it felt like ice and   
forced the words 'I love you dad' out of your mouth. And as you turned   
and headed for the door you heard the faint words 'I love you too   
Darien' in reply, but you kept walking - because you hated him. Shortly   
after the door clicked closed behind you you could hear the frantic   
beeping of the heart monitor announcing what you had wanted and you   
hated yourself - because you really didn't hate him. Too bad you   
realized it too -"   
  
"Don't you even Serena!" Darien roared, barely able to keep   
his rage in check, as far as he was concerned, Serena had crossed the   
line, "Don't you dare try to make me relive those memories, you spoiled   
little brat!" His eyes flashed dangerously, Serena felt like the clichéd   
deer caught in the headlights, "If you were somebody else..." Serena   
suddenly noticed his fist hovering a few mere inches away from her   
face shaking violently with repressed anger, she shrank back into the   
bookshelf and closed her eyes in anticipation of a strike.  
  
After a few moments she noticed a blow hadn't occurred and   
cautiously opened one eye slowly followed by the other. She registered   
Darien's back approaching the closed door and opening it, as he walked   
through she called to him the last thing she had to say.  
  
"Your mom and dad are proud of you!" She heard her front   
door opening and closing before she whispered the ending to herself,   
wishing Darien knew, "And they love you..." Darien didn't come back,   
but she knew he heard, at least the beginning. She felt both spirits   
pulling their energies back before they too were gone.  
  
Serena stood transfixed in the semi-dark room, staring at the   
candles that were still lit on the floor. She was shaken from her daze by   
the sharp sound of Oedipus barking. "What is it Eddie?" She turned   
her head to look at him and remembered the curtains had been closed,   
he couldn't see out the window, he appeared to be looking at something   
in the opposite direction. She stared at him momentarily perplexed, he   
was staring at her. The flames from the candles were reflected in his   
dark eyes, giving them an eerie yellow glow.  
  
Serena felt an involuntary chill run through her, she could feel   
something, something powerful. Suddenly Serena realized her normally   
quiet dog was not exactly looking at her, he looked more like he was   
looking through her. A strange sense of fear quickly enveloped her, he   
was staring at something behind her, she no longer felt alone. She   
inhaled deeply and held the breath momentarily in order to calm her   
tingling nerves, when she had regained some of her composure she   
made a difficult decision. She needed to turn around, she needed to   
see, the sudden wave of paranoia that assaulted her would not leave   
unless she did.  
  
Cautiously, as if in slow motion, Serena turned her head to the   
side, following Oedipus' burning stare. Briefly, in the corner of her eye   
she sensed a figure or shape of some sort, almost as soon as her mind   
processed it's existence - it was gone. She turned around completely,   
nothing was there. The uneasiness did not leave though, even as much   
as hours later, Serena felt accompanied by something at all times. She   
forced herself to think of her overactive imagination and dismissed it as   
nothing.  
  
Too bad she had no idea how wrong she was.  
  
  
To be continued...  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
Author's Notes: This has taken me a while, sorry! I should have the   
next chapter out sooner, it's almost done, I make no promises though.   
Thanks for all the nice comments, I appreciate them a lot! Please   
review and feel free to e-mail me with any   
comments/questions/suggestions you may have!  
  
Until next time...  
-La Lune  
  
  
  
  



	3. The Shadow

Title: Ouija  
Author: La Lune  
E-mail: la_lune86@hotmail.com  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Alternate Reality  
  
::Standard Disclaimers Apply::  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
'The basis of optimism is sheer terror.'  
-Oscar Wilde  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
Chapter 3: The Shadow  
  
  
Serena silently thanked God it was Friday, that meant she had   
two whole days before she had to see Darien again. Hallelujah, praise   
Jesus! Serena immediately thought of the Trinity Broadcasting   
Network and smiled, the fact that people actually sent them money   
never ceased to amaze her. She herself wasn't exactly a 'religious' type.   
When she lived with her parents the family had gone to church every   
week, it had been over ten years since that phenomena had occurred.  
  
Warm yellow light softly illuminated Serena's living room,   
including the cream-colored 'Fitzgerald Chair' Serena presently found   
herself curled up in. It was at times like these when a certain sentence   
found its way into Serena's head: 'God bless Bombay Company'. It was   
true though, Serena found herself able to spend thousands of dollars   
during one visit, she just couldn't resist, everything seemed to catch her   
eye. Besides weren't women supposed to be shop-o-holics? Serena   
wasn't that obsessed with shopping...except when it came to her three   
primary material weaknesses - clothing, furniture, and jewelry.  
  
She sat facing the oversized, ornate marble fireplace, the focal   
point of the room. Too bad she would never be able to use it, that   
would involve something along the lines of lighting a match, and that   
just wasn't going to happen. It was a shame though, she could just   
picture herself curled up in front of it reading a book as it cast a   
reassuring orange glow for her to read by, instead of the harsh artificial   
light projected by the lamp situated next to her chair. In all truth   
though, Serena realized the absolute foolishness of her phobia, but   
could never bring herself to overcome it. Besides, it wasn't like there   
was a support group she could meet with.  
  
In her lap rested 'The Other Side and Back' by Sylvia Browne,   
beside her chair two other books were stacked, 'Life on the Other Side'   
and 'Adventures of a Psychic', both also by Sylvia Browne. Serena   
simply adored Sylvia and believed every word, written or spoken that   
came from her being. She owned every book she had written, and read   
each of them numerous times, she was currently waiting impatiently for   
her latest 'Past Lives, Future Healing' to arrive, until then the others   
would have to do.  
  
Eddie lounged in front of the fireplace basking in the glow   
from the lamp on her beige 'Aubusson Hook Rug', another Bombay   
Company find. Serena yawned slowly and lowered the book from her   
gaze, she gasped, slightly startled by what she saw causing her to drop   
her book and lose her page. The soft thud of her book impacting with   
the floor was deafening. It was happening again. There was no barking   
this time, but the intensely penetrating gaze was still the same. Eddie's   
eyes were seeing, and at the same time - blind. His dark eyes almost   
immediately met Serena's, her startled ice-blue irises dissipated   
somewhat as the inky pupils slowly expanded. He was staring at her,   
and just as before she felt invisible. Her presence seemed to have been   
forgotten, but the presence she had the uncanny feeling was standing   
behind her was not.   
  
Not again.   
  
The feeling of fierce alarm came over Serena as she swiftly   
turned around, expecting to see Hannibal Lecter or John Doe to be   
standing there. Instead she saw nothing, well at least no cannibals or   
nut jobs obsessed with the seven deadly sins, she could have sworn   
though, like before, in the corner of her eye she saw something, a   
shadow or figure of some sort. She turned her face to look at the object   
directly but saw nothing, it was almost as if it had vanished.  
  
Not again.  
  
The uneasy feeling remained, and helped Serena hastily decide   
it was time for bed.   
  
Sleep was indeed a welcome venture for Serena, who was   
unable to shake the unsettling feeling that something was there, in the   
house, in her bedroom, standing in one of the darkened corners.   
Serena's release came with the unconsciousness of sleep, but with sleep   
comes dreams, thankfully Serena didn't dream that night.  
  
-------------------------  
  
From the second Serena regained consciousness and opened   
her eyes she knew that not only was something wrong but that she was   
no longer alone as well. Throughout the day Eddie would suddenly   
stare at her, and she was constantly seeing 'something' in the corner of   
her eye, or she would just catch a mere glimpse of a shadowy form.   
  
Something was wrong.  
  
She needed to tell someone, but who could she call? There   
was no chance in hell that she would talk to her parents and she didn't   
want to worry Aaron. She wanted to call Darien. But calling Darien   
involved having to talk to him, and Serena had to do that enough during   
the week, and besides he'd have her committed if she told him she was   
seeing things. Serena logically couldn't talk to anyone, it wasn't like   
they could make her paranoia go away.  
  
It got worse though. The frequency of the sightings increased   
rapidly throughout the day and the glimpses would be longer, Serena   
thanked mother and father god when night set in. It was extremely   
early by Serena's standards when she uneasily changed into her pajamas   
and went to bed. She found sleep almost unobtainable, all she could do   
was lay helplessly in a mass of tangled sheets with her eyes squeezed   
tightly shut. Sleep came eventually, but lasted only a short time.  
  
Something was wrong. Serena could sense it. Without   
thinking she sat up in bed and opened her eyes, slowly in order for them   
to adjust to the total darkness of the room. Darkness. Total darkness.   
That couldn't be, Serena had a tendency to be rather apprehensive so   
she had night-lights scattered throughout the house which she lit   
religiously every night. But they weren't on, she knew for a fact they   
had been lit when she had retired for the evening. But they weren't on.   
  
Darkness.   
  
Total darkness.  
  
That's when she saw it, the shadow was at the foot of her bed,   
only this time it wasn't disappearing. Every ounce of color slowly   
drained from Serena's face, leaving her as white as her sheets. A   
sudden shock of horror ripped through her body, leaving her incapable   
of thought, movement, or sound. She shook violently, her hand flew to   
her mouth when she finally found her voice and let out a scream of   
sheer terror that came from her very soul. When her initial terror's   
sharp edge wore down slightly Serena found herself filled with a white   
hot rage she could not recall ever feeling before.   
  
Unthinkingly she stood up on top of her bed with shaky legs.   
If the figure standing before her had any discernible eyes on its 'face'   
she would have been looking right into them. She opened her mouth   
and began yelling random obscenities at the nameless form which   
remained unmoving. The way Serena screeched and flailed her arms   
madly resembled a child having a tantrum over something trivial, this of   
course was anything but trivial.   
  
When Serena finally ran out of steam she sank to her knees   
like a deflating balloon. An unnoticed tear ran slowly down her left   
cheek as Serena dejectedly regarded the unwavering form before her,   
she wondered if she would ever be able to sleep again. Eventually   
Serena considered her options and came to the sad conclusion that she   
was trapped in her bed, and all she could bring herself to do was pull   
the blankets over her head and lay there, a quivering mass and pray that   
it wasn't real. She knew from experience though that prayers weren't   
answered.  
  
At that moment Serena experienced an epiphany. She recalled   
an important piece of information that every psychic knew of, but   
apparently she had forgotten momentarily. Dogs had the keen ability to   
sense things humans could not, things she could sense as well. Oedipus'   
strange stares were not in vain, he had seen it as well. It. Serena   
guessed 'it' was an apparition, an entity.  
  
Oh, no.  
  
Slowly and most definitely reluctantly, Serena pulled the   
covers down from over her head and sat up. She looked around   
expectantly but thankfully saw nothing. She wondered briefly if it had   
just been a figment of her imagination or maybe even a dream.  
  
The distinct trembling in her hands told her otherwise.  
  
She crawled across her bed and sifted through the top drawer   
of her bedside table. Her hand retracted holding a pad of paper as well   
as a slightly chewed on pencil. On a whimsy, Serena found herself   
scribbling down a message, the letters slightly crooked from the   
persistent shaking in her hands:  
  
'Who are you!? Why are you here!?'  
  
Sure, the message itself wasn't too earth-shattering, but in the   
end it did make Serena feel slightly more at ease.  
  
Slightly.  
  
She placed the pad on top of her bedside table by her alarm   
clock, with the pencil carefully resting on top, so as not to roll off.   
Serena had the urge to laugh at her childishness, Darien sure would get   
a kick out of it. Serena eventually fell asleep, wondering what she   
would find when she awoke in the morning, most likely nothing.   
  
Hopefully nothing.  
  
Serena stretched her tired muscles languorously as she slowly   
dragged herself out of bed. Light was streaming in the windows   
through partially closed drapes, giving the room a comfortable warmth.   
She stood and retrieved her slippers and was about to walk away when   
she remembered the pad. Stopping in mid-stride she turned around and   
approached her bed once more. She took a seat and reached over to   
pick up the pad, it was then that she noticed the pencil on the ground.   
Slightly distraught, she grabbed the pad quickly and read the contents   
of the page. Her message of course was there, but written a few lines   
underneath it was something else, something she had not written   
herself:  
  
'Now where's the fun in telling you? All in good time, my   
dear. All in good time... '  
  
A reply.   
  
  
  
To be continued...   
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
Author's Notes: Slightly shortish chapter, sorry!! The next one should   
and most likely will be longer. Please review, and e-mails are always   
welcome!!  
  
Until next time...  
-La Lune  



	4. The Voice

Title: Ouija  
Author: La Lune  
E-mail: la_lune86@hotmail.com  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Alternate Reality, Horror  
  
::Standard Disclaimers Apply::  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
'The basis of optimism is sheer terror.'  
-Oscar Wilde  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
Chapter Four: The Voice  
  
  
Serena sat transfixed, staring disbelievingly at the pad she held   
in her suddenly clammy hands. Time seemed to stand still for a long   
while, for what felt like hours had in reality been merely minutes. The   
thought that maybe in a dream-like state she had awoken during the   
night and wrote the two sentences that answered her previous questions   
suddenly came to mind. The idea was quickly done away with by just   
looking at the handwriting itself, the smooth, fluid cursive letters were   
something Serena could only dream of having as her own.  
  
Her own handwriting was a mixture of print and cursive, she   
had a tendency to connect certain letters together when writing. She   
recalled learning the cursive alphabet in elementary school and how her   
teachers always tried to stress the fact that once you started junior high,   
to put it simply, print was out and cursive was in, always. Boy, that   
was a load of bull. Consciously or unconsciously she could never   
manipulate her hand writing to look that perfect.  
  
Eventually she found it within herself to put the pad down, get   
dressed, and walk out of her bedroom. She felt quite suddenly   
desperately alone, in more ways than one. It wasn't the physical   
loneliness she encountered and quite frankly didn't mind; she couldn't   
feel anything any more. It was like the switch in her head that when on   
let the spirits communicate with her had been switched off. If that was   
the case, Serena wondered who was responsible for turning it off.  
  
Serena mentally tried to push these bothersome thoughts to the   
back of her mind; she was hungry. Twenty minutes and a bowl of   
oatmeal later found Serena back in her room, dressed, and on the verge   
of a cleaning binge. This ritual Serena found herself performing was   
not necessarily an uncommon occurrence as far as she was concerned.   
Serena had a tendency to bottle up her more forceful emotions, anger,   
frustration, etc. So as a way to cope, Serena found the task of   
scrubbing her house spotless quite soothing. The thought that if it   
weren't for Darien her house would be a wreck brought Serena to the   
brink of hysterical tears.  
  
Five minutes into her oatmeal she had received a telephone   
call from Molly concerning a report Serena had been slaving over.   
Apparently, Darien had 'accidentally' given Serena the wrong   
specifications and the entire thing would have to be rewritten. It wasn't   
so much the fact that she had been working on it for over three weeks,   
and it was virtually finished, Darien pulled this kind of crap on her all   
the time, she was used to it. What really irked her was the fact that he   
didn't even have the gall to call her and laugh in her face, like he was   
usually more than happy to do.  
  
Serena grabbed a bottle of Windex and an old rag out of the   
hall closet and began to angrily trudge down the stairs.  
  
She almost wished Darien would call, or even better, stop by   
so she could tell him off in person, or while she was at it, kick his face   
in. Now that would have to be an even more therapeutic than cleaning.  
  
'Hello, Serena.'  
  
What happened next happened so swiftly Serena would later   
wonder if it had been a dream. At the sound of the intruding voice   
Serena lost her footing, and plummeted down the remaining half of the   
stairs. As she had first felt herself falling she had instinctively   
tightened her grip on the wooden banister in order to save herself. For   
a brief moment Serena was able to regain a precious bit of her   
equilibrium and exhaled in relief that she was not lying in a crumpled   
heap at the bottom of the stairs.  
  
'Boo.'  
  
The voice jolted Serena once more, only now it was   
accompanied with a forceful push from behind, propelling Serena down   
the staircase. Serena listened as the temporarily forgotten bottle of   
Windex thudded down the steps slowly until finally coming to a halt   
beside her. If she had not been so thoroughly winded Serena would   
have either burst out in hysterics or into tears at the shear irony of her   
current crumpled position at the foot of the stairs.  
  
As Serena slipped into unawareness her senses seemed to   
become dazed leaving her in so thick a fog that she was unable to hear   
the laughing of a man's voice as she drifted off into oblivion.  
  
She woke close to three hours later with a dull ache throbbing   
behind her eyes and a stiff neck. Momentarily disoriented, she fought   
her aching muscles in order to sit up. As she slowly gathered her wits   
and began to recollect the events that led to her current position, her   
thought was suddenly cut off by the same offending voice from earlier.  
  
'Glad to see you awake, Serena.'  
  
She looked around at her surroundings frantically, looking for   
someone, anyone that was talking to her. There was no one. Despite   
this and all other reasonable thought processes Serena knew for a fact   
that whatever it was, it was real. Oh God, it was real.  
  
"Wh - What do you want?" Serena shifted her gaze around the   
foyer uneasily, and attempted to stand up upon wobbly legs.  
  
'At the moment I would appreciate your attention.'  
  
"Oh really? And why would a nice detached voice want with   
my attention? I'm sure you have much more important things to do   
than push me down stairs," Serena tried to keep her tone sarcastic and   
most importantly, calm. She began to slowly make her way through   
the different rooms in her house looking for who was speaking to her,   
closing the door of each room she checked behind her when she was   
sure it was empty and she was ready to move on.  
  
'On the contrary Serena, you need my attention.'  
  
Serena glanced into the kitchen, "I don't need your attention,"   
she closed the door and moved to the next room.  
  
'Don't be so ready to deny the truth Serena. Tell me, if you   
were not speaking to me right now what would you be doing?'  
  
Serena paused in mid stride, what had she been doing? "I   
would be out with friends probably."  
  
'Oh really? Since when did washing windows equal going out   
with friends?'  
  
Serena stopped dead in the middle of the foyer, "Who the hell   
are you?"  
  
'I'm aware that this might sound a trite clichéd but I do believe   
you will find me to be your worst nightmare.'   
  
"You've got to be kidding," her voice was light with   
incredulous laughter, "I mean for God's sake, don't give yourself so   
much credit. Ooooooooh, you made me fall down the stairs, big deal.   
I've put myself in a coma before with less effort," still laughing, Serena   
sat down on one of the bottom steps on the staircase, "And another   
thing 'Mr. Scary Disembodied Voice', in case you don't know or forgot - I'm a psychic. I'm used to these sort of things - Have you ever been possessed by a spirit? Now THAT'S a bitch."  
  
'Hmmm, apparently you're method of dealing with fear is   
different that what I first perceived, oh well, no bother,' his voice   
suddenly took a sharp tone, 'I need some action Serena, but I don't think   
at the moment you would give me a satisfactory response, so I suppose   
I'll just have to rile you up a bit.'  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"It means, my dear that in a short time something exceedingly   
bad will occur in this meaningless thing you refer to as 'your life'.'  
  
"So why are you telling me this?"  
  
'I'm telling you this so that when it happens you will know   
who to give the much deserved credit to.'  
  
"And who would that be?"  
  
'You may call me Legion.'  
  
The reference clicked in Serena's mind, even with the absence   
of any substantial religious knowledge. She ran to the library and in   
seconds found the relatively new bible, dusty from disuse. She flipped   
through the New Testament until she found the ninth verse of the fifth   
chapter of Mark:  
  
'My name is Legion; for we are many.'  
  
There was a thud as the heavy book hit the floor. Serena   
buried her face in her hands and wept.  
  
  
To be continued...  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
Author's Notes: Sorry for the huge delay in getting this out, I've been   
working on four stories at once, which isn't exactly the most effective   
method for getting any work done. E-mails are always appreciated!   
Thanks for reading!  
  
Until next time...  
-La Lune 


End file.
